


Boredom, Visitors, and Brothers

by KathyRoland



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyRoland/pseuds/KathyRoland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't care about social niceties.  Or anything at all when he's bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boredom, Visitors, and Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-read, so if you find any errors, please let me know so I can fix them!

Sherlock was contemplating the various fibers on his arm when he heard the lock to the door on the ground level turned. John was home, it seemed. There were murmuring voices on the stairwell. He was bringing a friend over.

Huffing, he sprawled against the sofa. Obviously, it was one of his mates from his military days that he would meet with every few weeks. He had never brought anyone over to the flat before this, though. Possibly because of Sherlock.

In fact, he wouldn’t be bringing anyone over tonight if he knew Sherlock was in- as far as John was aware, Sherlock was supposed to be in France on one of his consults. He wasn’t due back for another two days, but Sherlock had been bored. No sense being bored in France when he could be bored in London.

There was laughter at the door as John scraped the keys over the lock, no doubt addled by the excessive pints he had consumed earlier this evening.

Sherlock sniffed- why was it that it was socially acceptable for a bloke to enjoy alcohol in public, but the moment he brought out a cigarette, everyone complained about breathing. Blasted societal rules.

The door opened and two men stumbled in. When they caught sight of Sherlock, their laughter tapered off.

Sherlock didn’t even deign to look up. No doubt they were just as boring as the ceiling his gaze was fixed on was. Boring- that was all that the universe was today.

“Oh, Sherlock…” John made a queer sort of noise in his throat. “Didn’t expect you in. Thought you were in France?”

“Boring.” Sherlock scowled in irritation.

“Right. Well, this is Will-“

“Boring!” Sherlock exclaimed. “I couldn't care less about whomever you bring over.” He abruptly turned over and buried his face in the cushions.

The other man made a sort of choking noise, cutting off a snicker. There was a pause.

“Right.” John said, amusement clear in his voice. “Well, I suppose we’ll clear out then, and leave you to your… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“We could head over to my place,” the man offered. “The missus would love to see you again. Though, likely she’ll want to give you a right lecture for declining our wedding invite.”

The men continued to converse as they made their way out of the flat and John locked up behind himself. Their voices slowly faded away, leaving blessed silence for Sherlock once more.

A few minutes later, his phone started on, the ring tone indicated it was his brother. Sherlock let it ring out. His brother tried three more times, each one Sherlock let go to voice mail. He had no interest in his brother this evening.

An hour passed before he heard the front door on the ground floor open once more. By the sound of the steps on the floor and the particular pattern of an umbrella tapping its way up, he knew it was Mycroft, not John.

Briefly, Sherlock contemplated getting up and going out the window in order to avoid him, but if his brother was so determined to talk to him, he likely had men placed outside just for that contingency.

“Sherlock.” His brother swept in the room. “Please tell me you haven’t caused another incident.”

“How could I?” Sherlock flipped over and sent a withering glare at his brother. “I wasn’t in France long enough to do anything. Besides, I’m much too bored to bother with anything at the moment.”

His brother looked disconcerted for a moment. “I meant with the Duke.”

Sherlock sniffed. “What duke?”

Mycroft’s practiced façade actually broke and he pinched his nose and sighed deeply. “The Duke of Cambridge. Also known as Prince William? He visited here tonight with Dr. Watson, causing quite an uproar as my office had no idea Dr. Watson was known to him.”

Mycroft's grip on his umbrella tightened slightly and his expression clearly said that some of his people would find themselves without a job in short order.

“Oh, who cares about the titled?” Sherlock dismissed his brother with a flapping gesture of his hand. “I certainly don’t. Apparently, they’re drinking buddies of some sort. John knows him well enough to have been quite miffed when I told him I needed him to help me on Friday instead of attending his wedding.”

Sherlock’s lips turned down when he recalled the even bigger row he had had with John once Friday came along and Sherlock decided he in fact didn’t need John to do anything for him. It’s not like he had to take time off of work- it was a holiday for some stupid reason.

Mycroft’s faced blanched slightly and he gaped at Sherlock.

“You were in France!” he exclaimed. “What could you have needed- why-“ He cut himself off.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at his brother. He hadn’t seen Mycroft so…shaken and taken aback in years.

“You mean to tell me,” Mycroft ground out. “That Dr. John Watson received a wedding invitation and didn’t go? Because you were using him as your errand boy?”

Really, Sherlock thought. His brother was becoming quite unraveled. Perhaps his diet was affecting him.

“Turns out I didn’t need him for anything.” Sherlock sighed. “But why does it matter?” Briefly, Sherlock considered if he should contest the label of errand boy. John’s work was surely more important than that. It was for a case.

Mycroft spluttered.

Luckily, Sherlock’s rescue from the increasingly odd conversation arrived in the form of John stepping up the stairs.

John stepped in the room, gaze sweeping through it and taking note of Sherlock and his brother.

“Hello, Mycroft. Sherlock. Everything alright?”

Sherlock huffed and once more swung around to bury his face in the pillows, drawing up his knees as he did so.

John could certainly deal with whatever further insanity his brother was involved with. Besides, he seemed to like doing all the dull niceties required for keeping up a conversation. It appeared there was no end in sight for his boredom.


End file.
